


this summer i might have drowned

by neverwherever, t0talcha0s



Series: Summer Camp AU [1]
Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Adventure, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Summer Camp, Best Friends, Boys Will Be Boys, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Shenanigans, Short & Sweet, Slice of Life, Summer Camp, Urban Legends, my ongoing quest to write gon freecs as cute as humanly possible, they're boys at summer camp what do you want
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2020-10-04
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:27:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26823634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neverwherever/pseuds/neverwherever, https://archiveofourown.org/users/t0talcha0s/pseuds/t0talcha0s
Summary: “Zushi said he has an older brother who was here a few years ago and he said that there’s this really old tree out in the woods, like a little ways off the trail we took with Kite the other day, where they hanged a witch like a hundred years ago, and he says it’s cursed,” Gon said.Killua made a face. “Ugh. You believe that?”“I thought maybe it was just a story too, but then Zushi said, that his brother said, that the year before he was here, there was a boy who carved his initials into the tree and then, thenext day, he drowned in the lake.”Killua paused mid-sip, staring at him. “Whoa. Really?”Gon’s eyes were big and solemn as he nodded. “Yeah. So I think we should go find it.”...In which Gon and Killua are two kids at summer camp.
Relationships: Gon Freecs & Killua Zoldyck, Gon Freecs/Killua Zoldyck
Series: Summer Camp AU [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1956514
Comments: 9
Kudos: 98





	this summer i might have drowned

**Author's Note:**

> If all goes as planned, this is the beginning of a series of vignettes set in this delightful AU written by both me and @t0talcha0s. Please join us in this beautiful world

Gon clanked his tray down next to Killua in the mess hall and said, “Killua guess what Zushi told me!”

Killua scooched over a little to give Gon more room on the bench next to him. “Who’s Zushi?” he asked, and reached over to steal a fry off Gon’s plate. 

Gon didn’t notice, too busy staring astounded at Killua. “What do you mean ‘who’s Zushi?’ Killua, you know Zushi! He’s in your cabin!”

“There’s a lot of kids in my cabin,” Killua said, and made a move for Gon’s brownie. He was less successful this time; Gon snatched it away before he could grab it. After two weeks Gon was used to this by now, though, and barreled on in the conversation like nothing had happened.

“He’s the one with the big eyebrows,” Gon said, and shoved the whole brownie in his mouth. Killua swore to himself that by the end of the month he would manage to get Gon’s dessert without him noticing.

“Oh yeah,” Killua said. “That guy. He shouts ‘Osu!’ in his sleep.”

Gon laughed. “He’s really good at martial arts! He showed me when Illumi made you stay in the cabin for the free period yesterday. You should really talk to more people, Killua!”

Killua scowled. “Well you talk to everyone anyway, so why would I need to when I can hear it all from you?”

“That’s not the _point_ Killua, the point is to make friends!”

Killua pushed his hand into Gon’s face. “I have friends!” he protested, by which he meant, I have you.

“Okay, okay,” Gon relented, laughing, pulling Killua’s hand away. “ _Anyway,_ guess what Zushi told me?”

“What,” Killua indulged him, sticking his straw into his chocolate milk.

“Well, Zushi said he has an older brother who was here a few years ago and _he_ said that there’s this really old tree out in the woods, like a little ways off the trail we took with Kite the other day, where they hanged a witch like a hundred years ago, and he says it’s cursed.”

Killua made a face. “Ugh. You believe that?”

“I thought maybe it was just a story too, but then Zushi said, that his brother said, that the year before _he_ was here, there was a boy who carved his initials into the tree and then, _the next day,_ he drowned in the lake.”

Killua paused mid-sip, staring at him. “Whoa. Really?”

Gon’s eyes were big and solemn as he nodded. “Yeah. So I think we should go find it.”

Killua grinned. “Figured you’d say that. But when are we gonna be able to go out there? Kite doesn’t let anyone wander in the woods alone.”

Gon looked thoughtful. “Sneak away during the free period?”

Killua grimaced. “I can’t. Illumi’s making me stay in the cabin again today.” 

“Ugh,” Gon said, brows drawing together into a stormy frown. “That’s not fair! Just because he’s your brother doesn’t mean he should get to boss you around like that! What’s even the point of sending you to summer camp if you don’t get to have fun?”

The point, Killua knew, was to keep him and all his siblings confined in one place under Illumi’s watchful eye while his parents were away on business for a month. The only reason Illumi was even a counselor here was because his dad had paid the camp administration off to accept his application. Even now Killua could feel Illumi’s cool unblinking gaze from further down the table. He was doing his best to ignore it.

But anyway, Gon didn’t need to be bothered by all that, so Killua just shrugged. “He’s just mad because I ditched group activity the other day to hang out with your cabin instead.”

Gon hummed, and swung his legs back and forth as he thought. “Well… what if…” he darted a furtive glance over at Illumi and, lowering his voice, said, “What if we snuck out of our cabins tonight?”

“They could send us home for doing that,” Killua murmured.

“Hmm, they might send me home, but I bet your brother could talk them out of kicking you out.”

The thought of relying on Illumi to bail him out for anything made Killua wrinkle his nose in disgust. “Well, it wouldn’t be any fun around here without you anyway.”

Gon poked him in the shoulder. “Well that’s not even the point, because we won’t get caught! My bunk is right up against a window so I can sneak in and out no problem. And I know you’re good at being sneaky too, I saw you scare Retz at the bonfire last week.”

“Oh yeah,” Killua giggled, recalling how he’d crept silently up on Retz from behind while she chatted obliviously with Gon and shrieked in her ear. She’d screamed shrilly and nearly jumped forward into the fire. Gon reprimanded him for it but Killua had seen the amused sparkle in his eyes. “Classic.”

“So you wanna?” Gon prodded him, eyes wide with excitement.

Killua shrugged. “Okay. If you want.”

Gon beamed. “Cool! So I’ll meet you tonight at the twisty tree? Promise you’ll be there?”

“Yeah, I promise.”

Gon hopped off the bench, still grinning. “Ok, I better get back to my cabin’s table before Leorio notices I’m gone. See you later Killua!”

“Bye,” Killua said, and watched him bound away. 

Killua turned his gaze back to his lunch tray, and blinked, and registered for the first time Kalluto was sitting on the other side of the table. He was watching Killua through his bangs and picking idly at his food.

“What are you looking at,” Killua scowled at him.

Kalluto shrugged. “What were you two talking about?”

“None of your business. And don’t go blabbing to Illumi about anything or I’ll figure out a way to get him to make you stay in the cabin during free period too.”

“Was just asking,” Kalluto mumbled.

Killua rolled his eyes. Wouldn’t that be a fun time, the three of them stuck alone in the stuffy cabin for hours at a time, sitting in stony silence while somewhere outside Gon was running around with a bunch of other kids that were probably nowhere near as much fun to hang out with as Killua.

Killua looked over at Gon’s table across the mess hall, where Leorio, Gon’s counselor, was giving him an earful. Gon was rubbing the back of his neck and smiling apologetically, his usual strategy for getting people to forgive him. It seemed to be working as usual; Leorio concluded his lecture with a quick ruffling of Gon’s hair.

Killua sighed, ignoring all the more resolutely Illumi’s eyes on him. Tonight couldn’t come fast enough.

* * *

The tree he always met Gon at was some sort of really tall pine tree with a trunk that looked like a rope that had been held taut between two hands and twisted. It was right at the edge of the woods near the trailhead, some distance behind the main administration building. By the time Killua was sure that Illumi was fast asleep enough for him to risk slipping soundlessly across the creaky wooden floorboards of the cabin and out the door, Gon had already made it there and was perched up in one of the higher branches. When he saw Killua he climbed swiftly back down with barely a rustle of the tree’s needles, and landed in front of Killua already smiling, smelling of pine and with sap streaked up his arms.

“You made it!” he whispered loudly. Killua couldn’t help but grin back at him.

“Yeah, I did, now come on before somebody sees us,” Killua whispered back, throwing a glance over his shoulder at the darkened windows of the administration building as he put his hands out and ushered Gon towards the trailhead.

Campers weren’t allowed to go hiking alone, especially not at night, but last week Kite, the camp’s lead wilderness guide, had led a night hike for a small group of campers including Killua and Gon. Kite was cool, Gon especially liked him a lot, and he had a big scar on his right arm which he refused to explain. Every time someone asked how he got it, the story he told got crazier and crazier. Attacked by a bear, a lion, a bobcat, a monster — there was a betting pool around camp about which, if any, was the truth and whether or not Kite would fess up before the end of camp. 

But anyway, he’d pointed out a lot of key landmarks on the trail during that night hike, so their surroundings didn’t look completely unfamiliar. The moon was bright enough that they could see the trail pretty well, but just to be safe Gon pulled a flashlight from out of his backpack and switched it on.

The cicadas in the trees and the crickets in the grass and all the other night insects humming together were nearly deafening. Killua could hear the croaking of dozens of frogs along the lakeside and the occasional hoot of an owl. The night time was far from silent out here in the wilderness. 

Gon was humming some idle tune as they traipsed along the uneven path. The flashlight cast sharp and shifting shadows from the towering trees, and it was all too easy to imagine hulking shapes just beyond the edges of the light. Killua wasn’t scared, though. He nudged his arm against Gon’s.

“So do you really believe in ghosts?”

Gon paused in his humming. “I don’t know, but I wanna see one!”

Killua stared at him. “Why would you _want_ to see one? Wouldn’t you be scared?”

“Well, yeah, but it would also be really cool, don’t you think?”

Killua shrugged. “I guess so. Proof of the afterlife and all.”

Gon made a bright noise of agreement. “I’d try to talk to them, and figure out how they died, and why they’re still around, and if I can help them pass on to the other side — oh!”

His sudden exclamation made Killua jolt, and he instinctively gripped Gon’s sleeve as if to pull him back, but Gon’s expression was not one of fear, but of awe. “Killua, look!” he said.

Killua looked to where Gon was pointing: there on the trunk of a nearby tree was what looked like some sort of big, ugly brown bug.

Gon rushed excitedly over to it while Killua hung back warily. “It’s a cicada shell!” he said, and reached out to nudge it delicately onto his palm. Killua saw that, sure enough, it was not a bug — only bug-shaped.

“They shed their whole exoskeleton when they molt, look, and it leaves a perfect shape,” Gon continued, returning to Killua’s side and holding his palm up to Killua’s face. “Cool, right?”

Killua barely restrained himself from making a face. “Yeah, cool,” he allowed — quite generously, he thought.

Gon didn’t seem to notice. “I have a whole collection of these at home,” he said, and twisted around to unzip an upper pocket of his backpack and place the shell oh-so-carefully inside.

After that they were off again, and Gon was telling Killua about his day and about how Leorio had fallen into the lake during canoe lessons today and Killua laughed and said he wished he could push Illumi in the lake and Gon said he sounds awful, Killua, why don’t you? And Killua said, well, pretty sure Illumi would actually literally kill me if I did, which Gon pointed out was illegal, to which Killua replied anything was legal if you were rich enough, which somehow devolved into a long and giggly conversation in which they made up increasingly absurd dumb laws.

Gon was in the middle of insisting that it was a real law in some states that you couldn’t carry an ice cream cone in your pocket when he stopped abruptly, pointing to a large rock just off the edge of the trail.

“It’s this way,” he said, and stepped off the flattened dirt path into the underbrush.

Killua followed him, shuddering a little bit at the feeling of the tall grasses and weeds and ferns brushing against his bare shins. He really hoped there weren’t any gross bugs latching on to him down there.

“You sure?” he asked.

“Yeah, Zushi said it’s down by the edge of the creek and we’ll know it when we see it — oh! Right there!”

Gon flicked the flashlight ahead of them, and there it was: a squat tree with branches that grew in gnarled corkscrews, stretching outwards like grasping hands. It was bent partially over the creek, which was burbling quietly in the darkness, like an old woman digging for roots. Poisonous roots, probably — Killua could see why someone might look at this thing and call it a witch-tree. And it wasn’t difficult to imagine a person hanging from one of its strong, twisted branches.

The two of them approached the tree with cautious determination, and by some unspoken agreement started to circle its trunk in search of initials.

“Found some,” Killua murmured after a moment, reaching out to touch the letters carved into the bark: PT. They looked relatively fresh, like they actually were carved within the past few years.

“Really?” Gon said from a few feet away. “So did I.”

Killua moved over to see for himself: DF. These looked older; the wound had started to scar over with new bark. Something else caught his eye.

“Up there,” he said, and pointed; Gon moved his flashlight up to illuminate two more letters: HM.

“Good eye, Killua,” Gon said appreciatively. “Those look really old. You can barely even see them anymore. Do you think all these people died?”

“Dunno,” Killua replied. “Wouldn’t we have heard about it? The counselors would know, right?”

“Maybe not if it was a really long time ago.” Gon looked sideways at him, a sly smile playing about his mouth. “Do you think the witch’s initials are here somewhere too, underneath the top layer of the bark?”

A stray strong breeze swept through the trees then, making the branches sway and creak like a slow-opening door. Killua ignored the little shiver up his spine.

“I bet that story’s not even real,” he said resolutely. “Why would they come all the way out here just to hang someone? Doesn’t make sense.”

Gon’s sly smile broadened, showing teeth. He reached around to his backpack again, dug around for a few seconds, and produced his pocket knife. “Wanna find out?” he asked, and pried the blade open.

That was something Killua was learning about Gon. Whatever part of the brain it was that made people run away from danger, Gon didn’t seem to have it. If there was a challenge, Gon would meet it, even if he had no chance of winning; if there was a risk, no matter how huge, Gon would take it; if there was a tightrope to be balanced on, Gon would cross it in a moment without even looking at the ground. A lot of the time that daring spirit thrilled Killua — he had no small amount of it himself. Sometimes it worried him, though, because Gon couldn’t seem to see the fundamental difference between sneaking away from his cabin group activity to meet up with Killua, and going out on the thinnest branch over the ravine to see if it would hold his weight.

But right now, Killua was thrilled and worried both.

“Don’t be stupid,” was the first thing out of his mouth, before he had even fully processed what it was Gon was suggesting.

Gon’s lower lip stuck out in a pout. “But Killua, I thought you didn’t think it was real?”

“Yeah, well,” Killua began, caught between maintaining his cool demeanor and admitting that maybe he was a little bit scared of this creepy old tree and the stories of drownings. “I don’t. And if it’s not, then nothing happens. But if it is, then we could die.”

Gon pressed the flat side of the knife against his lip in a thoughtful gesture. “Hmm. Yeah, but I bet Zushi and everyone would think it was so cool that we did!”

Killua scoffed. “Cool that we carved our initials, or cool that we died?”

Gon flashed a cheeky smile. “Both.”

Killua rolled his eyes, futilely trying to suppress the laugh pulling at the corners of his mouth. “You are so dumb.”

“ _You’re_ dumb,” Gon retorted, intelligently.

“No, _you’re_ dumb!”

“No, _you’re —_!”

“ _You —_!”

They tackled each other almost simultaneously, commencing a wrestling match rolling back and forth through the undergrowth. This went on for several undignified minutes, both of them near breathless from laughter and exertion by the time Killua pinned Gon down with a knee pressed painfully into his belly and his hands around Gon’s wrists.

“Hah! There, I win,” Killua gloated.

Gon’s pouty scowl morphed into a look of horror, “Oh my gosh, Killua, there’s a _huge_ spider in your hair!”

Instinctively, Killua shrieked, and his hands flew up to his hair, and Gon took the opportunity to topple Killua off him and throw his bodily weight across Killua’s torso.

“That’s _cheating_!” Killua sputtered indignantly, and jabbed his sharp nails into Gon’s armpit. The wrestling match commenced for a few more minutes until they ended up calling a mutual ceasefire, in no small part because Gon suddenly realized that they had been rolling around in a patch of poison ivy.

So on the one hand, they were both going to be unbearably itchy come morning, but on the other hand, as they sat at the base of the witch-tree catching their breath, Killua found it didn’t look all that scary anymore.

“You know,” Gon said, tilting his head back against the trunk of the tree and looking up at it, “All these people carved in their initials by themselves.”

“Yeah,” Killua said, picking leaves out of his hair. “Your point?”

“So even if they did die, it was probably ‘cause they were alone. But if we did it together, then we could save each other if anything happened.” Gon sat up a little straighter and turned to look Killua right in the eye. “You’d save me, right Killua?”

Killua paused with one hand still in his hair, pinned under Gon’s gaze. “Yeah,” he said, and swallowed. “Yeah, ‘course I would.”

Gon nodded. “And I’d save you too. So really, we have nothing to worry about.”

And that was how they ended up digging the point of Gon’s switchblade into the witch-tree’s bark, standing so close together that their arms were touching from elbow to shoulder as they carved their letters: GF + KZ. Gon insisted on the plus sign between their names so that the witch or the curse or whatever would know that they were doing this together.

Killua finished the last notch of his Z, swiped away a bit of sawdust with his thumb, and looked up to meet Gon’s daring, I-can’t-believe-we-did-that smile with an answering grin on his own. 

And it was then, in the tense silence of realizing they had actually carved their names into a tree that was supposed to be cursed, that a huge snap-cracking sound came from the woods a few yards away.

Later, they would realize it was probably the sound of a branch breaking off from a tree and crashing down to the ground, something totally random, a complete coincidence, but in that moment — they screamed, and grabbed each other by the hand, and ran.

They went swiftly together the way they had come, fear blurring into euphoria into laughter because they had done it, they really had, and they were out here in the night on a secret adventure, just the two of them, and the cool nighttime air felt sweet in their burning lungs.

It must have been really, really late by the time they made it back to the grounds of the camp, lingering in the wide green space between the two rows of cabins. It was as far as they could go together; their cabins were on opposite sides of the field. There were surely only a couple hours left until they would have to wake up for the next long day, but Killua didn’t feel tired at all.

“Thanks for coming with me tonight, Killua” Gon told him, hands hooked around the straps of his backpack and bouncing ever-so-slightly on the balls of his feet.

“Yeah,” Killua said, kicking idly at the grass with one foot and shoving his hands in his pockets. He wished he didn’t have to sneak back into that cabin with Illumi in it, that he could just go with Gon to his cabin and sleep in a spare bunk or on the floor or even shoved in side-by-side with Gon. “It was really fun.”

Crickets swelled in the silence, then Gon took in a sharp breath. “I almost forgot! Killua I have something for you!”

Killua looked up at him as Gon reached not into his backpack this time, but into the pocket of his hunter green shorts. He pulled something small out and held his hand out to Killua, opening his closed fist to reveal what it was.

“I made you a friendship bracelet!” Gon said brightly. “Do you like it?”

The bracelet was one of the fancier ones Killua had seen around camp, a thick complex weave of green and blue and gold and silver thread. Killua looked down at it, and found himself blinking rapidly as something stung at the backs of his eyes.

“I —” he started, and had to stop and clear his throat. “Yeah, I, I really like it. You made it yourself?”

“Mmhmm!” Gon answered. “It took me the whole arts & crafts period, but I wanted it to be really special for you! Here, give me your wrist.”

Killua obeyed, swallowing back the lump in his throat as Gon carefully tied the bracelet around his wrist, knotting it securely: once, twice, three times.

“There,” Gon said when he was finished. “Now you have to wear it until it gets worn out and falls off on its own. Then, once it does, you get to make a wish and it will definitely be granted.”

Killua’s face was burning. “I … I don’t have one for you.”

Gon smiled gently at him. “That’s okay. You can make me one the next time you have arts & crafts.”

“It won’t be as good as this one, though…”

“I don’t care, as long as it’s you making it for me, Killua!”

Killua met his gaze for a second, looked into Gon’s bright warm amber eyes. Something swelled up from his chest into his throat and behind his eyes and he had to look away: chose to rest his gaze on the painstakingly woven colorful threads wrapped around his wrist.

“Thank you, Gon,” he whispered. It felt like an inadequate thing to say, but it was all he could manage.

Then, suddenly, Gon was right up against him and throwing his arms around Killua’s neck. Killua startled but did not back away. This was a hug. He was being hugged. Gon was hugging him. And it was … nice. Carefully, Killua brought his own arms to circle around Gon’s back.

“I’m really glad I met you, Killua,” Gon said, quiet and earnest right next to Killua’s ear.

Killua felt warm and helpless all over, not sure what to do or what to say or how to deal with someone so open and affectionate. His arms tightened without his permission, and he dared a brief duck of his face into Gon’s shoulder. Gon smelled like sweat and soil and, still, of pine sap.

“Me too,” Killua managed.

Gon squeezed him tight tight tighter for one more second, and then all at once he was gone, running backwards across the field towards his cabin and waving and whisper-shouting, “G’night, Killua! See you tomorrow!”

“Bye,” Killua whispered, raising a hand back at him and watching him disappear around the back of his cabin to creep back in through the window he’d left from.

For a minute Killua stayed standing out there in the grass, in the moonlight, in the chill night air. Tomorrow, Illumi was definitely going to notice the grass stains and tiny cuts and poison ivy rashes all over Killua’s body. And he was absolutely going to notice the bracelet around Killua’s wrist, which Killua had no intention of taking off before it fell off on its own. But right now, Killua didn’t care. All that was evidence of the best night Killua had had since coming to camp (and that was including the night they got to pretend watermelons were alien eggs and smashed them open and ate them with their bare hands). Killua was itchy and chilly and dirty, but he hadn’t felt this happy in forever. Gon made him feel happy. And there were still several weeks of camp left to go.

Killua crept oh-so-carefully through his cabin door, tiptoed silently past Illumi and Kalluto both, and slipped under the thin blanket on his mattress still with a smile in his face. Sleep came to him quickly: an easy, deep, and dreaming sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> your move, @t0talcha0s.
> 
> (also feel free to leave a comment if you enjoyed!)


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